


A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

by TwoBoys2Love



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester UST, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Post-Stanford, Pre-Series, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester at Stanford, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Underage Kissing, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBoys2Love/pseuds/TwoBoys2Love
Summary: Sam had wanted Dean since he was too young to even understand it. As Sam's life unfolded, he and Dean came together and drew apart.





	A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

The first time Sam kissed his brother on the lips was the night he had whisky for the very first time. It burned his throat but he kept drinking it because Dean was drinking it. Dean liked it so there was no way that Sam was going to show that he found the taste a little more like lighter fluid than it should be.  
  
Sam was fourteen years old, so drunk that the room was spinning. And all he could think about was the wine color of Dean’s full lips and how soft they must be.  
  
The bitter bite of the whisky sanded off Sam’s hesitation, his grasp on what was right and what was _strange_.  
  
He leaned across the bottom of the sagging motel room mattress and his mouth collided with his brother’s. Sam knew enough about kissing to know that it was a shitty kiss; too wet, too clumsy, and completely off-center.  
  
What he would _never_ forget, was the gentle way that Dean grasped his little brother’s shoulders, how he set him back slightly. There was a smile on Dean’s face that was warm and a little mysterious. Sam wouldn’t understand that enigmatic smile until years later.  
  
There were no other kisses until Sam was much older.  
  
In fact, there were none until he was at Stanford.  
  
Sam had fought with their father. He fought with him because he didn’t want to spend his life hunting. Dean was a good hunter, John had pointed that out to Sam numerous times. The only reason he had stayed to the end of High School was _because_ of Dean. There was a part of Sam that didn’t even know if he _could_ live without his brother. But, when it came right down to it, he’d thought that he might get over the weird way he was drawn to his older brother if he put some distance between them.  
  
He left for Stanford, started school, found a girlfriend and checked a lot of things off his _to-do_ list. What he couldn't do, was get over the way he felt about his brother. He missed Dean; it was like he was holding his breath and waiting for the next moment he could take in a lung full of sweet, fresh air. But Dean didn’t visit and Sam didn’t call. That was the Winchester in them.  
  
One night, Sam was half way through a chapter in economics and three-quarters of the way to thinking he wanted to drop the course when there was a knock at his door. Sam smiled, thinking that Jessica would be _just_ the distraction he was looking for.  
  
When Sam pulled the door open, Dean was standing there in front of him. He’d obviously been driving for a long time; Sam knew the look. Dean was a bit disheveled, his eyes were bloodshot, his skin a little pale under the stubble he’d cultivated. But, _fuck_ , Dean looked good. A little older, a lot stronger, the sight made Sam's legs go weak for a second.  
  
Sam finally felt like he could breathe with Dean standing there in front of him. His parted lips didn’t manage to produce a hello but months of unshed tears welled in his eyes. He shook his head and shrugged a shoulder.  
  
Dean pressed his lips together, his brow furrowed then he pushed Sam back into his room, kicked the door shut behind him and was _on_ Sam. The kiss was rough enough that Sam’s lip split against his own teeth. Dean’s tongue pushed into his mouth and the heat of it sent electricity crackling down Sam’s body.  
  
Nothing had _ever_ felt the way that Dean’s hands felt on Sam’s neck as he walked them back until Sam hit the wall.  
  
Sam was rattled, not by the impact, but by the intensity of his brother’s kiss. His entire body was vibrating, his heart quivering in his chest; pleased and scared and _so_ turned on.  
  
Dean mouthed his way along Sam’s jaw, hands clawing at Sam’s shirt, bunching up the material and hiking it up to Sam’s chest.  
  
All Sam’s skin was alive under his brother’s hands. His nipples hardened painfully when Dean’s nails dragged over them. Sam’s jeans were tight across his hips, his cock half-hard and aching as Dean’s teeth grazed down the side of Sam’s neck. It was only moments since Dean had first touched him and Sam had already lost himself in his brother’s presence.  
  
Finally, Sam caught up with what was happening and his arms slid around his brother’s body. One hand moved to Dean’s hair while the other found the hard curve of Dean’s ass.  
  
Dean let out a pleased moan, relief loosening some of the tension in his body. He pushed his muscular thigh up against Sam’s crotch.  
  
Heat jolted through Sam like a shock wave. His spine was on fire and he practically folded his body around his brother’s. “ _Jesus_ , Dean.”  
  
Moving almost frantically, Dean’s hands slid down to Sam’s shoulders to pull him forward enough to slam him back against the wall again.  
  
The breath was pushed out of Sam’s already-aching lungs and he poured everything into the kiss like his life depended on it. Maybe it did, because it sure as hell felt like his heart would just fucking stop beating if Dean let go of him.  
  
That didn’t happen.  
  
A hand tangled in Sam’s hair, the grip so tight that it sent pain and pleasure twisting together through Sam’s veins.  
  
He couldn’t help the way his hips canted forwards to press harder against Dean’s thigh.  
  
All Sam knew was _want_. It had been lingering there in the recesses of his soul, tucked away where he didn’t have to feel it all the time; hate it, feel ashamed of it.  
  
He curled his arm around Dean’s neck and licked at his brother’s swollen bottom lip. It was intoxicating, the way Dean chased after Sam’s mouth. Sam had always thought it was one-sided, but this was - “Fuck!”  
  
\- Dean’s teeth sank into Sam’s neck, pinching the flesh hard enough to hurt. One of his hands slid down the front of Sam’s jeans and cupped the hard line he found there.  
  
There were words ricocheting around in Sam’s head but he couldn’t get any of them to pass his lips. _Dean_ , _Sam’s_ Dean was grinding his palm against Sam’s swollen cock and it felt like everything in Sam's’ body would just fucking burn up and flutter to the floor.  
  
Sam’s head was on the verge of exploding. He clawed at Dean’s back, snapped his hips into his brother’s strong hand. It had been pent up inside him too long and Dean was _so_ close, strong, firm under Sam’s hands.  
  
Their mouths were together again, moving wet and ceaselessly and Sam clung to his brother.  
  
Dean raised his thigh, pinned Sam to the wall with both hands and thrust his tongue deep into Sam’s mouth.  
  
The way Sam’s heart leaped his felt like he would die. He sucked on Dean’s tongue unconsciously, hips thrusting forward as he dug his fingertips into Dean’s broad shoulders.  
  
Heat crawled up through Sam’s body, his balls were throbbing and the blood was pounding in his ears. He was too close, and Dean’s mouth was hot and everything was right and Sam lost what little control he had.  
  
His hips jolted forwards one last time and Sam felt like his body was being torn apart at the seams. He came hard enough that his body jerked, his nails dug into Dean’s body and he cried out.  
  
Sam’s release was a damp warmth spreading in his jeans and when Dean withdrew from the kiss, Sam sucked in a deep breath.  
  
Dean pressed his forehead to Sam’s; they were both panting, breaths ragged and strained. Dean cupped Sam’s jaw in both hands, breath hot against Sam’s lips.  
  
“I couldn’t stay away,” Dean murmured gruffly.  
  
Sam could only manage to nod because _fuck_ , it wasn’t like he hadn’t figured that out already. And the best damn part was that he’d never been so relieved to see anyone in his entire life.  
  
Things didn’t stay that good.  
  
They never did for Winchesters.  
  
Jess. _Jess_. And Sam found himself back in the passenger seat of the Impala. He was hunting again and it was the price he knew he had to pay for what he’s felt for his brother.  
  
He lost track of time, deliberately. He didn’t want to count the hunts or remind himself how close they were getting to finding the yellow-eyed demon.  
  
The brothers didn’t touch. Sam and Dean kept their distance from one another. It was like the night at Stanford had never happened. Sometimes, Sam believed it shouldn’t have happened, that he was being punished. So, when Sam felt the want gnawing away at him, he would bury it and look away from Dean’s green-eyed stare. He just had to keep his head down, stay the course.  
  
And, so much more happened. Shit _kept_ happening.  
  
Then the thing that broke Sam’s resolve was like a punch to the stomach. He found out that Dean was fucking stupid enough to sell his soul to bring Sam back from the dead.  
  
Stupid, fucking asshole of a brother should have known Sam wasn’t worth that.  
  
Of course, Sam hadn’t sad that. How could he? All he could do was pull Dean into his arms and hang on. He couldn’t lose Dean so he buried his face in the warm skin at the crook of Dean’s neck.  
  
They drove in silence that night, back to the motel they had checked into a million years earlier. Sam stole a few glances at his brother while he sat in the car. He searched his brother’s face for a sign that he had given away most of his life. He didn’t look as though he had a new expiry date looming on the horizon. Sure, he looked exhausted. like he’d lost a little weight, there were dark circles under his eyes. But, that happened. They were hunters.  
  
When they arrived back at the motel, Sam was so tense he felt like his muscles would snap. But, all that tension dissipated when Dean closed the door and locked it. He leaned back against it and peered across the room at Sam from under his long, dark lashes. “Don’t be pissed at me, Sammy. Not tonight, please…”  
  
The waver in Dean’s voice sliced into Sam’s heart and he closed the distance between them in three long strides.  
  
His fingers slipped into Dean’s jacket and pushed it open as he circled his arms around his brother’s waist.  
  
Dean’s lips parted and he let out a quiet sigh that was so full of relief that it made tears well in Sam’s eye. He’d been too caught up in his own shit to see what was right in front of him.  
  
The way their mouths fit together, it was as though no time had passed. The softness and submission of Dean’s mouth invited the dance of Sam’s tongue against his own. He’d forgotten the way Dean’s touch lit his heart up. It was so much more than anything else he’d ever felt with someone. It was his _Dean_.  
  
The resistance Sam had built up slinked away and he shoved Dean’s jacket off. Dean’s body was firm and warm, his soft cotton t-shirt was sweat-damp under Sam’s fingers. As Sam moved his mouth hungrily against his brother’s, his mind was full of how _alive_ Dean felt. He didn’t feel like someone else owned his soul.  
  
 _Sam would find a way to keep his brother alive._  
  
Impatient, Dean used the wall for leverage so he could shove Sam back towards the bed. once, twice, his hands connected with Sam's’ chest before they both toppled onto the unmade bed.  
  
“I need this,” Dean growled into his brother’s open mouth before he sank down onto Sam like molten lead.  
  
 _Feel how heavy, Dean’s real and alive._  
  
His own t-shirt rucked up, Dean worked on Sam’s almost desperately. The collar tore before he managed to shift aside and pull it up and off over Sam’s head.  
  
 _The flesh pulled taut over Dean’s chest was fiery: alive and present and in Sam’s arms._  
  
Sam heard Dean’s boots thud on the carpet then Dean was kneeling up over him so he could loosen both their belts.  
  
Sam had no idea what road they were on; he didn’t care. Whatever Dean wanted, he could have. All the shit they had slogged through, the losses, the hurt - none of that would compare to losing Dean. Sam just wished he’d figured it out sooner.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that.” Dean’s voice was thick and deep, the green in his gaze eclipsed by the black of his wide pupils.  
  
“Like what?” Heart pounding fast enough to make him light-headed, Sam’s hands froze on his jeans as he looked up at his brother.  
  
“Like I’m leavin’ you,” Dean growled. He crawled back from Sam, stood and shoved his jeans and boxers down.  
  
 _Dean wasn’t leaving because Sam would never fucking let him go again._  
  
“Fine,” Sam said. He unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and arched his back to pushed his hips up so he could slide them down.  
  
“Good,” Dean muttered. He grabbed the cuffs of Sam’s jeans and pulled them the rest of the way off.  
  
“Okay,” Sam said stubbornly as he shoved himself further up the mattress.  
  
There was a slight scowl on Dean’s face, but Sam would take it. He was willing to pretend for the night. There was always another day.  
  
Dropping to the bed, Dean crawled forward until he was lying against Sam’s side.  
  
The warmth radiating from Dean’s body felt good against Sam’s skin. His cock swelled as it rubbed against his brother’s thigh. He’d forgotten, _God_ , he’d forgotten what it felt like.  
  
Dean’s arm curled under Sam’s neck, and he threw his leg over both of Sam’s so he could get even closer. His fingers followed the curves of muscle on Sam’s chest, bumped over his nipples, traced the dusting of hair on his belly.  
  
Shifting restlessly, Sam arched his back again. He loved the feel of Dean’s thigh against his aching shaft. He’d waited long enough.  
  
In one smooth movement, Sam rolled them both and ended up lying on top of Dean. _Damn_ , it felt good. Better than good.  
  
There was a pink blush creeping up over Dean’s cheeks and it made his freckles seem even darker. Sam caught Dean’s lips with his own again, slow, and gentle.  
  
All that flesh below Sam made him tremble. He’d never imagined he would have another opportunity to touch Dean, kiss him, have him so close. He’d locked away all the thoughts about it and now … here he was.  
  
“You good?” Uncertainty flickered across Dean’s face.  
  
Nodding, Sam brushed his lips softly across Dean’s. It would never get old, _never_.  
  
Dean’s hand snapped up to grab a handful of Sam’s hair. He fisted it tightly and held his brother’s head just far enough away that their lips couldn’t touch.  
  
Sam jumped when the fingers of Dean’s other hand wrapped around his cock. The ring of rough skin slid up to the head and back down to the base, fingers trailing over Sam’s balls.  
  
Struggling against his brother’s hold, Sam let out a frustrated growl; he just wanted to feel Dean’s mouth against his. But the hand on his cock was still moving and pleasure was creeping through his veins. Each stroke of Dean’s fingers made Sam’s breath stutter and heat flushed down his spine. “Dean.”  
  
For the first time in days, Dean’s lips curled into the slightest smile. There was a dangerous expression on his face and it took Sam’s breath away. It was all so real. Everything felt as though it was turned on its ass. Sam found it hard to care how fucked up things seemed. He closed his eyes and focussed on his brother’s touch, the slide of a rough palm against the sensitive skin of his cock and the way it made his entire body tremble.  
  
As Dean’s thumb swept over the weeping head of Sam’s shaft, Sam whined softly. He began to thrust his hips forwards again. He fucked into his brother’s loose grasp, his thoughts racing around in his mind like they were in a hurricane.  
  
He felt Dean shift beneath him, felt the way that Dean’s cock rode the line at the top of Sam’s thigh. They were moving together, give and take, push and pull, and the entire time Dean held Sam’s lips away from his. He stared into Sam’s eyes, unflinching. It was honest and laid bare and it was snapping Sam’s heart into pieces.  
  
When Sam’s hips jerked forward clumsily, his brother tightened his hold. Dean always knew him better than anyone else.  
  
 _Why had Sam made so many wrong turns? Choices that kept them apart?_  
  
Dean’s body twitched and jolted like it was on fire. He rutted against Sam’s body then he let out a low, gravelly moan as he came. Warm wetness spread down Sam’s bare thigh.  
  
The grip Dean had on his brother’s cock faltered, and he finally leaned in to press his lips to Sam’s.  
  
Just the touch of those lips was enough to slam Sam into his release. As his orgasm tore through every cell in his body, he collapsed down onto Dean.  
  
The rise and fall of Dean’s chest was all Sam felt as he fell down into his pleasure. Soon, he became aware that his own breathing had eased into the same rhythm. He belonged _right_ there, his heart always beat a little steadier when his chest was pressed against his brother’s.  
  
Sam took a deep breath and released it slowly.  
  
He was _never_ letting go of Dean again. He would find a way....


End file.
